Chang Yuncheng escorted the completely drunk Fan Yilin home, declined the Wang family’s invitation to stay for dinner, and by the time he returned home, the sky was already growing dark.

Though he knew Qi Yue wasn’t home, seeing the lit lamps in the room still made his heart feel warm.

“Lord, shall we serve dinner?” Qiu Xiang asked.

Chang Yuncheng shook his head.

“No need, I don’t want to eat right now,” he said.

Qiu Xiang acknowledged and was about to withdraw.

“Have the kitchen prepare a late-night meal for when the Young Madam returns,” Chang Yuncheng added.

Qiu Xiang acknowledged again and left.

After washing up, Chang Yuncheng couldn’t help but walk over to Qi Yue’s side, lighting a lamp to illuminate the somewhat messy desk.

This woman was strange – she wouldn’t tidy the desk herself and wouldn’t let the maids tidy it either, saying that once things were organized, she couldn’t find them.

With things this messy, how could she find anything?

Chang Yuncheng smiled, sitting down in Qi Yue’s usual chair. He seemed to catch a faint scent of cosmetics in the air.

He picked up a paper and saw it covered with writing that looked like ghostly scribbles. A sudden gust of wind violently struck the window, causing the candle flame to jump wildly.

Chang Yuncheng reached out to shield the flame and lowered his head to read carefully.

The wind howled past as Qi Yue pulled her hat tight, watching Hu San and the others huddling together shivering again.

“It’s fine, you’ll get used to it,” she told Liu Pucheng, curiously asking, “Teacher, when you first came here, were you afraid?”

Liu Pucheng’s beard was blown wild by the wind, and he reached up to smooth it down.

“Of course I was afraid,” he said.

Hu San and the others felt somewhat better hearing this.

“Master gets afraid too? We thought Master wasn’t afraid of anything,” they laughed.

The atmosphere relaxed considerably, and they had reached the charity morgue.

On a winter night with strong winds, the morgue was even more eerie.

A lamp suddenly appeared in the darkness, floating toward them.

Hu San couldn’t help but cry out in alarm.

“Doctor Liu, you’ve arrived,” Coffin Boy said, raising the lamp higher to illuminate his face.

He spoke to Liu Pucheng but his gaze fell on Qi Yue.

Like the first time, Qi Yue had her head and face covered, showing only her eyes.

She smiled slightly at Coffin Boy.

“Please come in quickly,” Coffin Boy said, suppressing his excited heartbeat as he led the way.

Compared to last time, Hu San and the others performed slightly better, but when Qi Yue made the incision in the corpse’s mouth and nose, they still couldn’t help but stir restlessly and look away.

This time Qi Yue was mainly experimenting with blue marking lines with Liu Pucheng, so she didn’t scold them for their reactions.

“…To achieve precise anatomical alignment… the most critical part is repositioning the orbicularis oris muscle, otherwise it will affect the entire upper lip movement function…”

Qi Yue explained while operating.

“What is the orbicularis oris muscle?”

Coffin Boy’s voice came from beside them.

Liu Pucheng was somewhat surprised, not having noticed that Coffin Boy was still there.

Qi Yue looked up at him.

“There, that’s it,” she said, pointing with the scissors in her hand.

Seeing her invitation, Coffin Boy immediately approached.

“…I make a full-thickness oblique incision here… then skin… muscle… mucosa… separate… Doctor Liu, you need to help me retract at this point… yes, like that…”

“…Here is where the nasal columella separates from the nasal ala, cutting apart. I’ll divide this into three muscle flaps… three cross-sutures… needle…”

Qi Yue extended her hand.

Liu Pucheng was holding retractors on the other side and couldn’t reach the needle and thread. Hu San and the other disciples were still trembling, and though A’Ru wasn’t afraid to look, her body was stiff and completely unable to move.

When doing real surgery, she would definitely need to place all needles and thread within reach, or it would be troublesome…

Qi Yue prepared to let go and fetch the needle and thread herself.

Coffin Boy reached over and handed it to her.

Qi Yue smiled at him.

“And forceps too,” she said.

Coffin Boy also smiled, his eyes bright, immediately turning around.

But forceps?

“Third one on the left,” Qi Yue said.

Coffin Boy made a sound of understanding, curiously picking up that strange tool and handing it to Qi Yue, his eyes unwilling to miss a single movement of her hands.

Qi Yue’s mind replayed the suturing steps she had designed and practiced many times, her hands working efficiently.

Z-shaped vermillion border suturing… thin-side vermillion border transition incision… triangular vermillion border flap insertion…

Throughout this process, Coffin Boy either helped her pass surgical instruments or assisted Liu Pucheng with retraction and lip clamping, fully participating in the surgery. Except for momentary confusion when faced with various tools, everything else came naturally to him.

“Not bad, young man,” Qi Yue looked at him with some admiration.

“Dealing with dead people all day, naturally nothing scares me,” Hu San couldn’t help but mutter.

A’Ru glared at him, and Hu San sheepishly didn’t dare say more.

Coffin Boy seemed somewhat uncomfortable from her praise.

“Hey, I’d like you to be my assistant,” Qi Yue said, increasingly feeling this boy was very useful. Just this composure in the face of surgery would be a great help.

Liu Pucheng quickly coughed.

Coffin Boy’s briefly brightened eyes immediately dimmed again.

“Madam honors me too much. A lowly person like me wouldn’t dare,” he said flatly.

“How are you lowly?” Qi Yue said with wide eyes.

How lowly? The expressions of everyone in the room were complex. Did this even need to be said?

“But I’m serious,” Qi Yue said. “Young man, think it over.”

Coffin Boy smiled but said nothing.

Serious? These were the most false words in the world.

It was just for these corpses, wasn’t it? No need to flatter him like this – everyone was just taking what they needed.

Liu Pucheng and the others left quickly. Coffin Boy casually threw the money in a corner of the room, took out his own needle and thread, and went to the morgue again.

He stood before that corpse, pulled back the white cloth to expose the chest, picked up a knife to cut through the skin, then looked at the suture marks around the mouth and nose area and picked up needle and thread.

“This kind of suturing…” he recalled what he had just seen, murmuring to himself while his needle flew through the thread.

When she entered the house this time, it was just past the third watch. Qi Yue exhaled – if she kept to this schedule, she wouldn’t need to fabricate lies about midnight emergencies in the future.

Hearing the commotion from her entrance, Chang Yuncheng immediately stood up. Someone pushed through the door, but it was the maid A’Hao.

“The Young Madam is washing up. I came to get clothes,” she said with lowered head.

Chang Yuncheng hummed acknowledgment and sat down.

A’Hao kept her head down, hurriedly took clothes from the wardrobe beside them, and withdrew.

It seemed like a long time passed. Accompanied by the night-duty maids’ greetings outside, the door moved again, and Qi Yue entered with the steam from her recent bath.

“Ah, you’re not sleeping again,” she asked, shaking her hair.

Chang Yuncheng looked at her.

“Why did you come back so late?” he asked with a frown.

Qi Yue pursed her lips and was about to speak when she heard Chang Yuncheng cough.

“…You must be tired,” he added as a supplement.

Qi Yue looked up at him with an examining expression.

Chang Yuncheng felt uncomfortable under her gaze.

“What are you looking at?” he said gruffly.

Qi Yue smiled at him.

“This time it’s normal,” she nodded.

Chang Yuncheng realized what she meant, his anger flaring up. He reached out and grabbed Qi Yue as she swayed past him.

“Hey, what are you trying to do again? Can you blame new injuries on Young Master Fan too?” Qi Yue said.

As she said this, she couldn’t help but laugh.

Chang Yuncheng looked at this woman’s expression, and his pent-up frustration dissipated again.

“Lord, Young Madam, the late-night meal is here.”

The maid’s words from outside made the two separate.

Looking at the fragrant and appetizing clear porridge and side dishes, Qi Yue thanked Chang Yuncheng again.

Chang Yuncheng sat across from her without speaking.

The atmosphere was somewhat awkward and dull, so Qi Yue stopped talking too, and the two ate their porridge separately.

With women, you need to praise them, be considerate of them, constantly say “I know you’ve worked hard, I know you’ve been wronged,” regardless of whether they actually worked hard or were wronged – just saying it is never wrong.

Chang Yuncheng swallowed a mouthful of porridge.

“You were wronged before,” he said.

Qi Yue, who had just taken a mouthful of porridge, looked up at him.

“What?” she asked unclearly.

This damned woman… was she deliberately playing dumb?

“Before,” Chang Yuncheng said gruffly. At this point, Fan Yilin’s drunken words echoed in his ears.

When talking to women, you must be gentle and pleasant, as sweet as possible…

“…you were wronged.”

The latter half of Chang Yuncheng’s sentence suddenly dropped in tone and became somewhat distorted, as if someone had suddenly grabbed his throat.

Qi Yue held her spoon waiting for him to finish. Having heard it all now, she couldn’t help but burst out laughing and choked.

“You damned woman!” Chang Yuncheng flew into an embarrassed rage, slammed the table, and stormed off.

He should have known that little rascal Fan Yilin’s advice was unreliable! He must have lost his mind to actually listen to it!

Qi Yue coughed several times before finally stopping, looking over to see Chang Yuncheng’s side had already gone dark.

Had she really hit too hard and injured his head?

The night passed without incident.

The next day, the couple ate their meal in silence. When Chang Yuncheng lifted his foot to leave, Qi Yue called out to him.

“I’ve boiled disinfectant medicine. Let me clean your wound,” she said.

In the past, Chang Yuncheng would have swept his sleeves and left, but he lifted his foot and forcibly held back.

A’Ru brought in the boiled medicine. Qi Yue personally cut several pieces of cotton cloth to soak them and had Chang Yuncheng sit down.

A’Ru hesitated for a moment, lowered her head, and withdrew.

Que Zhi was carrying tea and about to enter when A’Ru stopped her.

“But this is what the Young Madam just asked for…” Que Zhi peered toward the door while saying in a low voice.

“She doesn’t need it now,” A’Ru said, taking the tea from her and walking away.

Que Zhi pursed her lips and also withdrew.

Using forceps to hold the cloth, she carefully cleaned the wound on Chang Yuncheng’s forehead.

Due to the stimulation of the medicinal liquid, Chang Yuncheng turned his head slightly, and Qi Yue’s hand immediately lightened.

This woman… cares about him…

Chang Yuncheng’s tense body relaxed. He sat while this woman stood, her soft body with its faint medicinal fragrance close before his eyes.

“What fragrance do you use? It’s quite… quite nice,” he suddenly said.

Qi Yue paused, lifting her sleeve to smell it herself. She realized it was from the disinfectant medicine she had soaked in after returning from the morgue last night.

Nice? Not really that nice, was it?

“I’ve been to the medicine shop a lot, unconsciously picking up the medicinal smell. It’s not any fragrance,” she laughed, putting down the cotton cloth. “There, it’ll be fine in a couple of days.”

As soon as she finished speaking, Chang Yuncheng reached around her waist, and she was pressed against Chang Yuncheng’s body.

Qi Yue became nervous again.

“Hey, you’re…” she called out.

“Before, I let you suffer wrongs,” Chang Yuncheng said in a low voice, interrupting Qi Yue’s words.

That phrase again…

Feeling that he made no further moves and was just holding her loosely, Qi Yue relaxed her tension slightly.

“Hey, didn’t we say we wouldn’t mention the past…” she laughed dryly, holding up her hands not knowing where to put them.

“Not mentioning is not mentioning, but we can’t not know,” Chang Yuncheng looked up at her and said. “I can’t not know about the wrongs you suffered.”

This person… really isn’t normal…

Qi Yue twitched the corner of her mouth.

She really wasn’t used to Chang Yuncheng like this. Could he really have been stimulated and had problems with his brain? She’d better not stimulate him further…

“Actually, I didn’t really suffer much…” she said dryly.

This woman indeed wasn’t jumping up and down like before, nor did she have that righteous indignation of “you’re unreasonable”…

This was what that little rascal said – women’s hearts are soft, and if you retreat one step, she can retreat ten steps…

Chang Yuncheng couldn’t help but smile.